The Barn
by ScruffyLovin
Summary: Alternate reality. After a long absence, Logan returns to a place of fond memories where someone he loved was left behind. LoganOroro finished Please Review
1. Chapter 1: Homecoming

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any X-Men, the creators _::cough::_Marvel_::cough:: _would probably sue the pants off me if I said I did....so I won't.

**Summary: **Alt. Reality. After a long absence, Logan returns to a place of fond memories where someone he loved was left behind.

**Pairing: **Logan/Ororo.

**Note: **This is an alternate reality fic, in which the characters we know and love are not mutants.

**2ndNote: **The entire story is only a few chapters, and it's all finished so I'll probably update either every other day or when I get a review or so. Enjoy!

**The Barn**

**Chapter 1: Homecoming**

An old '63 Chevy pick-up poked out from under broken boards, hay, and whatever debris remained from the old barn. Dull grey primer and rust covered the aged truck, and it looked like it had definetly seen better days, but surprisingly it had survived while the supposedly sturdy barn had crumbled to the ground. Outside there was a tangle of pale brownish overgrown grass poking out all over the place, and a dusty old dirt road with tall weeds and more browning grass all around the edges. Barely anyone came around this particular Arkansas County, and the area had been run down for a couple years.

As the sun began to set, a loud rumble could be heard in the distance, getting louder and closer to the old barn. Soon a motorcycle could be seen making it's way down the winding dirt road, dust clouds swarming the rumbling bike and settling while the vehicle came to a halt just outside the barn's crumpled opening. The engine soon winded down as the dusty rider shut down the loud motorcycle, and an eerie silence hung in the air as the light breeze stilled and the tall brown grass stopped swaying. The leather jacket wearing rider patted at his shoulders and chest, soft puffing clouds of dust appearing in the air at his attempt to clean himself off a bit. He slowly plucked the dusty sunglasses from his face with a calloused hand and tucked them away in an inside pocket of his leather jacket. Squinting his dark hazel eyes, the rider took off his bowl-shaped black helment, letting his wild black hair flow freely as he shook his head. The severe scruff and mutton-chops on his face were equally dusty, as was his chin from the long ride that had taken him to the old barn. A sudden memory that was once thought long-forgotten soon came forth in the man's brain and he found himself staring at the barn entrance, transfixed on the delapidated sight.

_"Logan, why don't you come down from there and take a break. You've been working on that roof all day!" a beautiful young woman with long, flowing white hair and a soft, light brown complexion called from the ground, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up toward the roof of the tall barn. Her flowing off-white sun dress swayed behind her in the breeze, giving her a very angelic appearance._

_"A'right 'Ro, I'm comin' down." Logan gave in, as was usually something he couldn't help when his fiance was ever-so-sweetly asking something of him. He gave a partial grin, then climbed to a careful standing position on the slanted roof as he reached for a few scattered tools. Crouching closer to the roof and reaching for the hammer that had slid down toward the ledge, Logan stretched his arm while balancing himself to reach it. _

_"Careful," Ororo warned as she watched him struggle to reach the fallen tool. _

_Logan began to tighten his grip on the hammer as soon as his fingertips touched the handle, but as he began pulling it toward him he lost his footing and slipped, then slid right off the roof with a shocked yelp._

_Ororo shrieked in horror as she watched him fall, but couldn't force herself to look away. There was nothing she could do. He hit the ground with a sickening thud and the deadening crack of breaking bones. "Logan!" she cried out with teary eyes as she flung herself beside him._

_His eyes opened moments after his fiance was beside him, but he couldn't speak right away. Logan just felt like he had the wind knocked out of him, but he didn't yet register any other pain and figured he must have been in shock. His head felt fuzzy, but he managed to focus on Ororo, her eyes immediately telling him things were worse than he thought. Carefully tilting his head to the side, he saw his right leg, even though he knew rightly from the angle his head was tilted, he shouldn't have been able to. The limb was twisted at a sickly angle, and he could just make out the white, blood-spattered bone sticking out from his flesh. _

_Logan had broken his right leg and three ribs that spring, but the doctors said he was lucky not to have snapped his spine. That didn't make him feel any better, but it wasn't the broken bones that angered him. He was just mad that he wouldn't be able to finish up the barn's new roof. He had to call upon his friend Peter all the way over in the next county for help. Logan had tried several times to climb back up on the roof to help his friend, even while his leg cast was still on, but Ororo had kept him grounded until he fully mended and assured him Peter would be able to finish the job._

As the memory passed, Logan absently rubbed at his right shin before dismounting the bike and leaning it against the kickstand. He set the helmet down on the leather seat and strode toward the collapsed entrance of the barn. He patted the hood of the old Chevy that poked out of the rubble, then began dragging off the broken boards and debris. After he had cleared the way enough so he could get to the driver's side, he thrust the door open, wincing slightly as it creaked and rust particles dusted the ground. He sat down on the old seat, dust clouds puffing up from the old material. Coughing a few times as he swatted his hand to disperse the dust, Logan left the door open and leaned back in the seat while gripping the steering wheel.

He just sat there awhile, looking out the dirty windshield and holding onto the steering wheel. Finally he reached into his left pocket, producing a set of old bronze keys. Sticking the keys into the ignition, Logan turned them and attempted to start the old truck. He wasn't surprised when the engine wouldn't turn over and plucked the keys out before returning them to his pocket with a sigh. He got out of the Chevy and slammed the rusty door shut before returning to his motorcycle and mounting the bike. Clapping his hands on his worn jeans to get rid of more road dust, Logan started up the bike, twisting the throttle as he knocked back the kickstand and sped off down the dirt road from where he came.

The house that was previously near the old barn seemed as if it had burned down long ago, judging by what little remained of a the crumpled foundation and the burnt, broken boards and debris that was scattered about. He had some good memories of that house and the barn, but there were some he cared more to forget. Sometimes the good memories just made him feel worse about what happened, and those he would have rather forgot too, but he couldn't. Nope, of course the ones he didn't want to think about would come to surface at the wrong moments.

- - - - -

Pulling the motorcycle onto a narrow side road that seriously needed re-paving, Logan drove up to a well-kept yellow farmhouse with cream-colored shutters and a matching wrap-around porch with flower boxes on the ledges. As he killed the Harley's engine, he took in a long breath and let it out slowly while dismounting and nudging the kickstand down with his foot. Logan's boots clanked heavily on the planks of the porch steps as he cautiously approached the door. Just as he raised his arm to knock, the screen door flung open as someone from within started speaking.

"Can I help - " the woman's voice trailed off as she took sight of the man on her porch. She absently brushed a stray white hair from her face, mouth hanging open in a gasp that never passed her lips. "Logan?" The name squeaked out in a scratchy whisper of disbelief. "Is it really you?"

His brows quivered a moment and he gave a slight nod, clearing his throat. "Yeh 'Ro...it's me."

Silent tears trailed slowly down her cheeks and her lower lip trembled. "I - you - it's been five years...." she finally managed, a million thoughts running through her mind.

"I know," Logan looked down, focusing on the scuffed toes of his boots. He cleared his throat again roughly, hoping that his voice wouldn't crack. After five years he was still desperately in love with her.

"After you were recalled to the army....then..." Ororo's scattered thoughts were running a mile a minute. She swiped a hand over her teary face. She just wanted to reach out and touch him to make sure he was really there. "The accident...It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission right?" she cleared her throat, willing herself not to just break down and start bawling her eyes out. "First..they told me you were dead....then you were in a coma...." Ororo put a hand over her mouth, trying to stop her ramblings.

"Three years..." Logan said quietly, his head still bowed for a moment. When he looked up, his eyes were a little watery, and he suddenly wished he'd stopped some place to clean himself up some before going to see her. He tapped the left side of his head. "Still got the bullet." he smiled a crooked half smile before his expression turned grim. Ororo hadn't said anything further, and when Logan spoke again his voice sounded much softer, sadder. "Took me two years jus' ta get the courage ta come down here." Logan looked down again and wasn't sure what Ororo would say. He was almost afraid she'd turn him away, tell him to get lost.

She took in a shaky breath and closed her eyes a moment. "I'm sorry I never went to visit you after you came out of it..." Ororo pursed her lips and sadly cast her eyes downward. She nervously fingered a silver chain around her neck.

Logan couldn't help but notice that the chain she wore had the engagement ring he gave her on it, but he didn't say anything. His brows furrowed and he sighed softly, raising his chin. "I don't blame ya....You probably jus' wanted ta get on with yer life."

Ororo met his gaze again, and even though she tried to fight it, more tears ran down her cheeks. She felt so guilty. Why didn't she just stay with him?

Logan distantly recalled the letter he'd gotten in which Ororo told him she was breaking off the engagement. It was soon after she found he'd recovered from his three-year coma. It was devastating news, but he learned to accept it, or atleast pretend he did. She'd fallen in love with another man after being told by doctors her fiance wouldn't survive. "So, how's Scott?" Saying that name caused some bitterness to slip into Logan's words. He hadn't really known the man, only that he raised cattle over in the next county and was a business partner with his friend Peter.

"Oh, I'm not sure. We broke up last year and he moved to the city." There was a touch of sadness in Ororo's voice, but it wasn't because of Scott. It was because she felt bad speaking about her relationship with him to Logan. It was because she still had feelings for Logan that she chose not to move to the city with Scott, therefore breaking off their relationship.

"Hmph." Logan just grunted softly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. _What the hell am I doin' here? _He thought to himself somberly. _Did I think she was jus' gonna jump inta my arms an' everythin' would be like it once was? Who'm I kiddin'? Why the hell am I here disruptin' her life? What right do I have? _He was suddenly jostled from his thoughts at the sound of Ororo's gentle voice.

"Um, why don't you come on in?"

Logan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head and grimaced for a moment until it quickly passed. "Nah, it's okay. I don't wanna bother you an' yer mother."

"My mother passed away about a month ago." she said sadly. Ororo rubbed her arms then smiled nervously like she didn't know what else to do.

"I'm sorry." Logan said, scratching the back of his head.

Ororo nodded. "Yeh, well....she left this house to me, but I can't afford to keep it up. I'll have to sell it." she frowned slightly, then stepped aside, still holding the door open. "Come in okay? Please?"

Logan really wanted to stay around her, and he didn't want to refuse, so he stepped inside tentatively. He was met with the old familiar smells of Ororo's mother's house; cinnamon and freshly baking cookies, even if there weren't any cookies in the oven. Logan stood there a moment until Ororo had closed the door, then he followed her toward the kitchen as she passed him, trying not to meet his eyes. He took a seat at the table and absently ran a hand over the edge of the smooth wood. He remembered when he'd built that table for Ororo's mother years ago after an unintended brawl had broken out between Logan and Ororo's ex-boyfriend and they haddestroyedthe old kitchen table. A brief smile broke out on Logan's face at the memory.

Ororo must have noticed the far-away look on his face because she suddenly asked, "What is it?"

"Hm?" Logan looked up and shook his head, his face giving way to a stoic expression. "Oh, nothin'."

Going over to the counter to prepare some fresh coffee, Ororo was soon halted by Logan.

"Ya don't need ta make a fresh pot fer me. B'sides, it's gettin' late an' the stuff keeps me up." he partially smiled and Ororo returned the gesture and sat down across from him.

She'd only been making coffee because it was the only thing she came up with to do, as per usual when she had guests, which was rarely. Ororo didn't even feel like having coffee either. She soon adapted a curious and concerned expression when she noticed Logan wince and put a hand to his head. "Are you alright Logan?"

"Yeh." He grunted softly and cleared his throat, his face still slightly twisted in a pain. He tapped lightly at the left side of his head. "Bullet still gives me one helluva headache sometimes." he grimaced, then rubbed at his head.

Ororo pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. "Want me to get you an Aspirin or something?"

"Uh, no," Logan shook his head and reached out to stop her. "I'll be a'right in a minute." He realized that he'd grabbed her forearm and shamefully pulled away as if his touch would somehow damage her soft skin.

Ororo blushed slightly. She then just realized how much she missed his gentle touch, the warmth of his rough skin on hers. A tear threatened to force it's way out, but she pushed it back and looked away for a moment, unable to face him without fond memories of their past relationship surfacing. But she was remembering them anyway.

_"You're late," Ororo scolded softly as Logan walked in the door and made his way into the kitchen. The smell of a slow-cooked roast wafted in the room, and the table had already been set for two._

_"Sorry darlin', long day at work." he apologized sincerely, striding toward his beloved fiance and snaking his arms around her waist._

_Ororo revelled in the warmth of his strong arms wrapped around her, leaning her head against his shoulder and holding him back. "Mm, as long as you're here now."_

"I better go." Logan's voice broke through her thoughts, but Ororo suddenly felt like she was still within the memory.

"But you just got back," she said with a touch of longing in her voice, then shook her head to clear away the remnants of the memory. "I mean, you just got here." Ororo corrected softly.

Logan stood up and rubbed his head again, the headache finally fading. He cleared his throat, then tried for a smile but ended up making it seem regretful and sad. "I know...." he sighed. "I - I shouldn't have come here. I don't wanna be wreckin' things for you now when you're life's settled down already."

Ororo forced back tears again as she watched him walk away. Then the sound of her pleading voice surprised even her. "Logan, wait!"

He turned around in the doorway, one foot already on the wooden planks of the porch outside. He blinked, somewhat shocked to see that longing look in Ororo's eyes.

She calmed her voice before speaking again. "Do you..." she took in a deep breath. "Do you have a place to stay for the night?"

"Uh.." Logan froze. He didn't want to get his hopes too high and think that maybe, just _maybe _she was slowly starting to see him the way they used to be. He blinked a few times, mentally shaking his head but not doing so physically. _No, _he thought. _It's never gonna be the way it used ta be. We're never gonna be **us** the same way anymore. _"I haven't really thought that far ahead," he finally answered dumbly. _What kind of idiot travels over a few states with no plan? _He paused in his thoughts, then mentally answered himself. _This kind of idiot. _

"Why don't you sleep here. In the spare room?" Ororo suggested a little too quickly, but she found that Logan didn't really notice. She wanted to be close to him again, she wanted him to be around her. But was this moving too fast? She hadn't seen him in five years. After she found out about the accident and that he may not recover, Ororo couldn't bring herself to visiting him in the military hospital. She didn't want to see him like that. If he was going to die, she wanted to remember him how he was before, not lying comatose in a bed with breathing tubes and bandages all around his head.

Logan cleared his throat, unsure for a moment if he had heard her right or not. "I...I don't wanna impose any more than I already have." he said lowly.

"It's okay," Ororo detected the sadness in his tone. He felt rejected, like he shouldn't be there, and she felt responcible for that. She shuffled her feet a little and began to approach him slowly, stopping a few feet away. "I mean, there's not really anything for you to disrupt...I haven't been up to much lately." She managed a little smile as their gazes locked.

"Uh..." Logan scratched at the back of his head, feeling the grit in his hair through his fingers. He really could use a good place to stay and clean up. "Alright..." he answered slowly, then moved his hand from the back of his head to his neck and rubbed it. He jerked a thumb out the door toward his motorcycle where his saddlebags held his few belongings. "I'll jus' get some o' my stuff."

Ororo nodded with a tight smile, trying not to seem too eager. _What am I doing? _She thought as she watched him head toward his bike. _I've missed him so much more than I could ever say....But what do I do about it? _She debated whether or not to express how much she'd missed Logan while he walked back into the house and set his bags down on the floor. Before she realized what she was doing, Ororo flung her arms around his neck and rested her head briefly on his shoulder. "I missed you Logan." she said quietly and a little teary-eyed.

He stiffened at her sudden actions, then relaxed a little. He didn't want to get too caught up in the moment since all he wanted to do was hold her tight and never let go. Logan patted her back gently and uttered quietly, "I've missed you too 'Ro." He gave a short nod as she pulled away with a small smile.

"Well, I'll go prepare the spare room," she said quickly, swiftly walking away and leaving Logan standing there, slightly confused.

- - - - -


	2. Chapter 2: Leaving

**Note: **Thanks for the great reviews! _::grins:: _Sorry it's gonna be such a short story **Sketty**, I would've liked ta do more, but plot bunnies attacked my muse and I've got some other fics in the works. There's another Ororo/Logan one in there! Hehe. Hope you readers like this chappie!

**The Barn**

**Chapter 2: Leaving**

Ororo couldn't sleep. She lay awake in her bed, sitting up and leaning against the propped up pillows close to the headboard, staring across the room at the door. How could she sleep with him in her house. Alive. Logan was alive, she had known that when she was called three years ago and told he'd come out of his coma. She couldn't even force herself to go and visit him. Instead, she took the easy way out. She wrote him a letter to break off the engagement. _How cold-hearted was I?_ She thought with tears rolling down her cheeks. _After all he's been through, I send him a letter and tell him I'm in love with Scott? How could I. I wasn't really in love with Scott...and he knew it. That's why Scott proposed I moved with him to the city and we get married. That's why I couldn't go. Scott knew I was still in love with Logan. _Ororo bit her lower lip and pulled her blankets closer around her. Winter was fast approaching and the recent weather showed as much. Some days remained somewhat warm, but others were bitterly cold.

She sat up when she heard the shower running. Glancing at the clock, Ororo saw that it was nearly eleven p.m. and almost wondered why Logan chose now to take his shower. She remembered how he always used to rise early, around quarter past five in the morning and take his shower before getting to work. Only on weekends would he take a shower at night and sleep late, but never later than ten a.m. Glancing toward the window to her left, Ororo noticed the bright light from the crescent moon shining in and casting shadows on the wooden floor of her bedroom. As she heard the water turn off, she sunk low into her bed and listened quietly as Logan shuffled about down the hall.

- - - - -

Logan felt much better after he had taken a shower. His hair was damp, but no longer gritty, and though he hadn't shaved, atleast his scruff and sideburns were clean. He strode out of the bathroom and into the dark hallway in a pair of boxers, carrying his dirty clothes in a bundle under one arm. If Ororo had been up he would've dressed more decently, but he was sure she was asleep, that's why he had taken his shower so late. As he stepped into the guest room, Logan pulled out a laundry bag from his duffle and stuffed the dirty clothes into it. He settled down on the bed while flicking off the lightswitch and sat there a moment, lost in thought. Sighing rather loudly, Logan flopped back against the pillows and pulled up the blankets half-way before drifting off to sleep.

His sleep was soon plagued by memories before his accident, coming fast to his mind in stages of his dreams.

_"Write to me as often as you can," Ororo called after him, blowing a kiss through the air as he hung half-way out the military bus' window and pretended to catch the kiss. "I love you Logan!"_

_"Love you too 'Ro. It'll only be a few months, hopefully!" Logan told her as the bus started to pull away from the near-vacant curb and he watched the distance between him and his fiance grow further apart. _

His dream shifted, taking place during the accident that left him comatose for three years and almost killed him.

_"Sarge! They're shooting at us!!" one soldier called from the back mounting gun of the camoflauge Hummer, while ducking live ammo._

_"This is supposed to be a Safe Zone dammit!!" Sergeant Griswald cursed, reaching for his helmet and calling out to his men, "If ya don't got your vests on, get 'em on pronto!!"_

_Logan secured his Kevlar vest, and was about to fasten his helmet when a stray bullet soared through the air from the hills along the left of the army vehicles and struck the side of his head. He went down fast and fell limply against one of the seats within the armored Hummer. Muffled sounds entered his ears as some of his fellow soldiers gathered around him, looking frantic and yelling words he couldn't make out. He felt something thick and warm sliding down the side of his face, but before he could deduce that it was blood, blackness enveloped him and he was lost to the world. _

His dream yet again taking a different course, Logan shifted uncomfortably on the bed, twisting slightly in the sheets.

_He was awake again, but in a hospital. Three years had passed and he was out of his coma, working on physical therapy. He had already gotten the letter from Ororo, telling him the news of their now null engagement. Devastated, but not willing to show it to the doctors and nurses around him, Logan put all his thoughts and efforts into getting back to his physical peak. He could barely sit up on his own for the first few weeks, and doctors were wondering if he'd suffered permanent brain damage that inhibited his motor functions. Logan refused to give up trying, no matter what the doctors said._

_"Mr. Howlett, the nurse will be in shortly to take you to therapy now." a voice echoed in his head, but it was a familiar voice, it was Ororo's._

Opening his eyes and suddenly sitting up in bed, Logan shook his head to clear away the memories that surfaced in his dream. He ran a hand over his face and checked the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly four in the morning, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Climbing out of bed, Logan dug around in his dufflebag and pulled on a pair of jeans, a wifebeater, and a red, black, and brown checkered flannel shirt. He lazily combed back his wild hair with his hands, then zipped up his bag and headed for the bedroom door.

- - - - -

Little sunlight entered Ororo's room, but instead when she opened her eyes and looked out the window she was met with a dreary, grey morning. Sitting up, surprised that she had actually fallen asleep, Ororo crawled out of bed to stand in front of the window and look outside into the driveway. She frowned when she realized that Logan's motorcycle was no longer there, and a sudden fear gripped her heart and caused her stomach to turn in knots. Hoping that he wasn't gone for good, and determined to go looking for him, Ororo quickly ran out into the hall to take a shower and dress before getting in her car and tracking him down.

She pulled her Jeep onto a dusty little road that she had been so familiar with. This was the road that led to the property in which the house she and Logan lived in together once stood, along with the old crumpled barn that had once been brand new. She knew that Logan would be there, and seeing his bike parked in front of the barn entrance made her sigh in relief as she parked the Jeep and climbed out. Ororo just stood there a moment, taking in the scenery. She hadn't been on this property in so long, and it was obvious that no one else had either. The tall, brown grass swayed slightly as a dull breeze picked up before it died. She strode toward the collapsed barn entrance where she found Logan sitting on the hood of the old Chevy. "I thought I'd find you here." she said softly.

Logan looked up slowly and shifted on the rusted hood of the truck. He looked around, gesturing toward the wrecked barn. "What happened?"

Ororo's gaze shifted to the ground sadly as she walked forward a little. "Last spring, there was a tornado that ripped through here, a tree fell on the barn, crushed it." she sighed slightly, then looked up. "They removed the tree, but the damage was done."

"Oh." Logan said quietly. His brows furrowed as he turned on the hood of the car and fully took in the wreckage behind him that fell over the rear-end of the Chevy and crumpled even further beyond that. He looked up, his eyes locking with Ororo's. "And the house," he began slowly. "That happened before?"

"Yes," Ororo admitted softly with a nod. "It was about a year after...your accident." She paused, the memories of how their once-beautiful house met it's demise. "I didn't have the heart to tell you." She regretted the way she phrased that as soon as the words left her mouth and she mentally cursed herself. _Oh, but I had the heart to tell you I was with another man. _

Instead of making her feel worse, which he easily could have, Logan just nodded for her to continue her explanation.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and sighed. "There was a terrible brush fire and everyone was told to leave the county. That's when the house was burned to the ground." she managed a brief faint smile and shrugged. "Surprisingly enough, my mother's house remained intact." Ororo absently rubbed her arms and stared up at the grey sky for a moment. "The tornado that destroyed the barn finished off what was left of the house....The foundation just crumpled."

Logan's eyes distantly scanned over the slightly swaying fields behind Ororo, then patted his leg and slid off the hood of the truck. He dusted off his jeans, then rubbed at the back of his neck. It was kind of funny, he felt more sad about the barn getting destroyed then the house. Maybe it was because the house had been there a long time, but he'd built that old barn up from the ground himself. A lot of work and fond memories went into the building of that barn, and he suddenly stood there, wishing he could go back in time.

The same memory soon passed over both Logan and Ororo's thoughts and they each seemed lost in a daze for several moments.

_It was a rainy night, loud thunder clapped in the distance, a bit too close for comfort and causing the house to rumble. Ororo raced outside to the barn where she was sure she'd just seen Logan head off to. She pulled the hood of her raincoat over her head and stuffed her long white locks of hair in it as she ran. "Logan, what are you **doing **out here?!" she exclaimed as she entered the barn to find him standing there beside his truck and staring up at the beams above._

_"Damn roof needs patchin' again." he growled irritably, shaking his head._

_Ororo just sighed, then walked over to him and grabbed his arm as water dripped down and splashed silently among the hay. "Come on, you can't do anything now, let's just get inside, it's pouring."_

_Logan let out a frustrated sigh, but he went along with her anyway. "You shoulda let me help Pete finish the roof in the first place. He ain't much of a carpenter." He shook his head. _

_Ororo smiled a little and patted his arm. "There was no way in hell I was going to let you go up there with a broken leg."_

_Logan just smirked with a slight snort before he wrapped an arm around Ororo's waist and they made a run for the house. _

"Looks like it's gonna rain."

Ororo suddenly looked over at Logan and nodded distantly as she gazed up at the sky like she was thinking the same thing. "Yeh," she said quietly, then glanced at her watch. It was still pretty early, almost nine o' clock. "How long have you been out here?" she asked curiously.

Logan took a look at his own watch. "Not long," he lied. He'd been there since quarter past four, but he wasn't going to tell Ororo that.

"Did you have anything for breakfast? Are you hungry?"

He didn't answer right away. But now that he thought about it, Logan hadn't eaten since lunch the other day. He fidgeted slightly and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. He wasn't so sure that being around Ororo so much was a good thing right now. Logan had some things to work out, and was sure that she probably did too. "Nah, I ain't hungry." he lied again. He hated lying to her. They used to tell eachother everything when they were together. _We're not together anymore. _He reminded himself with a slight frown. "I'm jus' gonna go fer a ride." _There I go lyin' again._

"Okay," Ororo smiled tightly and turned around to head back to her Jeep. She paused as she opened the door. "Will you be back?" she began tentatively. "To my mother's house I mean. You're welcome to....if - if you want, that is."

Logan offered a half-hearted smile, then mounted his Harley. He sighed softly. "I dunno yet."

Ororo seemed to accept that since she got inside her Jeep with a simple nod and drove away.

Slumping his shoulders, Logan hung his head a moment before starting up his motorcycle. He knew the county was pretty much abandoned except for the few remaining farmhouses here and there, and some businesses in town, but thought maybe there was a nearby diner that was still standing. Gripping the throttle, Logan turned down the dusty road in search of a place to eat and do some thinking.

- - - - -

Dust clouds rolled over the dirt parking lot of the small diner, a single pick-up truck parked outside the desolate building. The swinging sign above the door read: **OPEN **in large bold letters, but it was doubtful anyone really cared whether the place was open or not. No one but Logan that is. He killed the engine of his bike after parking beside the lone truck, then slowly dismounted and tucked his helmet under one arm as he strode toward the door. The chiming of a cow bell signalled his entrance, and he glanced around the place that was seemingly rather empty. If he didn't see the cook poking his greasy head out from the kitchen, Logan would have thought the place abandoned. He took a seat in a corner booth with a window and sat back, glancing over the menu on the table.

"What'll it be hun?" the accented voice from the waitress that sauntered toward him caused Logan to look up. She was a plain-looking woman; less than silky brown hair tied back in a bun, slightly weathered skin, a rounded nose, and thin pink lips. She was middle-aged and slightly pudgy, but seemed to a have a genuine smile on her face and a friendly personality.

Logan looked up slowly with a soft sigh. "Just a coffee, black, and uh...steak an' eggs." He was pretty hungry, and he couldn't remember the last time he had steak and eggs.

"Sure thing." the waitress scribbled down the order on a little pad of paper from her apron, then pocketed the pen she used and smiled before turning toward the kitchen. "I'll have it out in a jiff."

Leaning back against the old red plastic-like material of the seat, Logan rested his head back and closed his eyes in thought. He remembered this diner, though his recollection of it wasn't so clear. The people in it now he didn't remember. It used to be owned by an old couple, and it was much better kept then. _The whole town must'a went ta hell after that tornado. _He thought, grimacing as his headache returned. Logan rubbed the left side of his head, tracing his fingers over the slightly raised skin under his hair, the scar from the bullet's entrance wound. He looked up with a start as a plate was shoved in front of him on the table and he saw the waitress hovering over him. _Hm, musta been lost in thought fer a while..._

"Ya'll right hun?" she asked with a look of sympathy crossing her features.

Logan grunted. "Yeh," He looked down at his plate, then arched an eyebrow up at the waitress. "That was fast."

She half-smiled, jerking a thumb toward the kitchen. "Cook ain't got any other customers ta prepare for. Slow mornin'."

_Hmph. Bet I'm the first customer they've seen all week. _He thought, but didn't say anything. Logan just nodded a thanks as the waitress poured him his coffee and sauntered back into the kitchen. As he dug into his breakfast, he decided that the food wasn't all that bad despite the greasy look of the place, and either way, it was better than nothing at all. Logan began to wonder why he had come down to Arkansas in the first place, why he had bothered to drop in on his ex-fiance, the love of his life. _'Cuz I still love 'er, _he thought absently.

He finished off his breakfast and left a rather large tip tucked under his empty coffee cup before getting up and stalking out of the little diner. As he got back on his motorcycle, Logan thought about the barn again. He still had ownership of the property, as far as he knew, and he almost wondered what it would be like if he decided to fix up the old place.

- - - - -

When Logan didn't come back by late afternoon, Ororo was getting worried that he might have left for good. She'd been working at the garden shop in town that she had joint-ownership with a friend, and when she came home she found no evidence that Logan had been there. After a long moment of indecisiveness, Ororo decided to stop by the old barn just to check if he was there. She had a feeling that's where she might find him again, after he looked so lost in thought when she found him there earlier.

- - - - -

_"Here, I brought you some lemonade." Ororo smiled sweetly as she set the glass on a nearby stack of wood in the barn. _

_Logan pushed himself out from under the old Chevy and sat up. There was grease and motor oil all over his face, arms, and shirt. "Thanks 'Ro, coulda used a beer though." he smirked and gave her a wink._

_Ororo laughed softly, then handed him the glass of lemonade and sat down beside him on the ground, leaning up against the truck. "Boy is it warm today," she shook her head, then wiped some sweat from her brow with her forearm. _

_"Tell me about it," Logan grunted, pulling up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. He just managed to smear more grease and motor oil on himself._

_Shaking her head, Ororo let out a squeak of laughter and smiled widely as she rubbed her thumb against his chin. "You're filthy." she laughed._

_Logan shrugged with a partial smile and gulped down half the glass of lemonade. "That's what you get when yer workin' on a heap like this ole' thing." he jerked his thumb toward the '63 Chevy they were leaning against._

_Ororo smiled contently and rested her head comfortably on his shoulder. _

- - - - -

With the sun sunken behind thick, grey clouds, darkness spread over the landscape early. It was still a fairly warm late afternoon, and it hadn't started raining after all. With winter soon approaching, the evenings had gotten cooler, but this evening remained a comfortable fifty-five degrees or so. After his breakfast at the diner, Logan had gone back to the old barn, first stopping at a mechanic's shop to get a few things he needed. He'd been spending the rest of the day there, getting to work on the rusted old pick-up that was still half under the crumpled mess. It took Logan a few hours to clear away the old broken boards, then he was able to get in the truck and put it in neutral so he could push it out of the barn.

Logan climbed out from under the truck and dusted himself off. He had to use a jack and raise the Chevy off the ground to rest on cinderblocks so he could get underneath. Unbuttoning his flannel shirt and tossing it toward his parked motorcyle, Logan let out a sigh and wiped the sweat from his brow. He rubbed the back of his neck before stripping off his sweaty wifebeater and tossing it with his other shirt. As he got back to work on the truck, Logan popped the hood and began tinkering with the engine, figuring he had much to do before it would start.

- - - - -

Driving down the long dirt road toward the old barn, Ororo spotted Logan's motorcycle and that old familiar '63 Chevy pick-up out front. The hood was up and the flat tires lay scattered about in the dirt while the vehicle remained propped up on cinderblocks. She suddenly felt as if a tightness had relaxed around her heart at the relief that Logan was still around. She couldn't bear to think about how she would feel if he was gone, because it would probably be for good this time.

Parking her Jeep, Ororo stepped out of the vehicle and looked around with a delicately raised brow. His motorcycle was here, but she hadn't spotted Logan yet. Walking toward the old truck, she gasped slightly in surprise when he came out from the shadows of the debris-cluttered barn carrying a rusted old tool box. She couldn't help but notice that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and realized fondly, that his muscles seemed more defined then she remembered. Ororo cleared her throat to gain his attention as she suddenly averted her gaze.

Logan glanced up, shifting his grip on the handle of the tool box. "Uh.." he paused, then rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. "Hey, 'Ro."

She smiled faintly, still trying not to admire his barechestedness all that much. "Planning on driving the old Chevy out of here?" Ororo asked lightheartedly, gesturing toward the primer and rust-covered hunk of metal.

"Dunno." Logan grunted, setting the tool box down on the ground. "Been workin' on it." He wiped his hands on his jeans, then crouched down and opened up the tool box, taking out a socket-wrench before standing straight up again.

"I see that." Ororo was at a loss of what to say. Atleast she could relax in the fact that Logan would have to be sticking around for a little bit if he planned on fixing his old truck. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt and glanced off to the side at the browning grass that reached over the entire field.

Blinking rapidly a few times, Logan stepped forward hestitantly, soon grimacing in pain and dropping the socket-wrench in his hand as he clutched at his head.

"Logan?" Ororo grew worried and instinctively went to his side and gripped his arm. When he didn't respond she started leading him toward her Jeep. "Come on, sit down for a minute."

He complied slowly, the sharp aching in his head striking him with blinding pain before he collapsed in the passenger seat of Ororo's car.

- - - - -

Logan groggily opened his eyes, squinting at the soft light that was seemingly coming from behind him. He blinked several times to focus and gain his bearings, when he soon realized he was in a comfortable bed. Groaning barely audibly and rolling onto his back, he noticed that Ororo was sitting on the other side of the bed watching him with concerned eyes. "What happened?"

Ororo's brows furrowed. "You passed out at the barn. I brought you back here."

"Here?" Logan groaned, seemingly not fully aware of where he was. His mind was reeling, lost in a memory of the past and for a moment he could've sworn that it was over five years ago and he and Ororo were still together.

"My mother's house." Ororo watched as he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned against the headboard of the bed. "You must have over-exerted yourself or something," she began quietly when Logan started to shake his head.

"No," he said raspily at first, then cleared his throat and tapped the left side of his head. "It was my head." Logan grunted, then said. "I'm okay now."

Ororo tilted her head to the side slightly and partially frowned. "Has it ever gotten that bad? The headaches, I mean. So bad that you passed out?"

Logan sighed and scratched his shoulder before he rolled his head until his neck cracked. "Yeh, not too often though."

"How on Earth did you manage to drive all the way down here safely?" she raised a delicate eyebrow, then shifted slightly on the bed and folded one leg under her.

"I ain't s'posed ta be drivin' really." Logan answered with a partial smirk.

Ororo looked away a moment, then changed the subject a little after a long silence passed between them. "Why didn't the doctors remove the bullet? Were they unable?"

Logan jerked his head up a little, caught off-guard by the nature of the question. He hadn't expected she'd even want to talk about his accident, although she had asked the nature of his headaches which were caused by it. He scratched his head. "Uh, the Docs said sugery'd be too risky, but where the bullet was it was jus' gonna stay there an' wouldn't cause too much harm." he shrugged. "So they left it."

Ororo just smiled tightly in sympathy and nodded. "So...what went on after you - you know...after you came out of the coma." She felt odd about asking him such personal things after she hadn't seen him in five years, but she wanted to know.

He paused, and for a moment Ororo thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he spoke. "Spent a year in physical therapy, during that time they also had someone fill me in on stuff that happened over the years I missed."

Quickly wiping away a guilty tear that threatened to spill down her cheek, Ororo reached out tentatively and put a hand over Logan's. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," she said, fighting the lump in her throat.

Logan stared down at Ororo's hand that covered his for a moment, then grimaced slightly and pulled away. He turned toward the wall and flung his feet over the side of the bed so he was facing away from her. "I - " He began, but the sound died in his throat and he never finished. Logan didn't know what to say. His emotions were running toward past feelings and memories of being utterly alone after he came out of his coma. There were no familiar faces, no one he loved. Suddenly Logan stood up and began scanning the floor for his t-shirt and flannel, trying not to look at Ororo. Upon finding the discarded items, he first pulled the wifebeater on over his head, then slipped his arms into the unbuttoned flannel shirt and left it open.

Ororo watched as he moved hastily about the room in a hurry to leave her company. She noticed the hurt expression on his face, even though he was trying not to look at her. Bowing her head sadly, she sat there helplessly as he left the room with his things.

- - - - -


	3. Chapter 3: Sleepless

**Note: **Thank you very much for the reviews! **Darlin**, I think your question will mostly be answered in the next chapter.

**The Barn**

**Chapter 3: Sleepless**

Logan didn't make his way back to the house that night, and as Ororo lay in her bed trying to drift into a dreamless sleep, her mind wandered to the past. It was as if she could feel him lying next to her on the bed once again, hear his heavy breaths as he slept. Ororo closed her eyes tightly and rolled to her side as she hugged a nearby pillow, trying to imagine that it was Logan she was holding onto, resting her head gently against his back. A tear squeezed from her eyes and trickled slowly down her cheek, sticking at the corner of her mouth. She pursed her lips, sniffling almost silently, the tear drop vanishing and leaving only a damp trail over her soft skin.

If she would be able to get to sleep at all, Ororo knew it would be a long night and the luxury of rest wouldn't come easy. She knew she would think of Logan as she tried to slumber, and her dreams would be plagued by long-lost memories of their past together.

- - - - -

Laying across the front seats of the old Chevy parked just in front of the demolished barn, Logan stared toward the steering wheel as he tried to sleep. It was foolish for him to be there, sleeping in the old run-down truck instead of finding a hotel closer to the near-abandoned town, but Logan didn't care. He still wanted to be close to Ororo, even if her mother's farmhouse was atleast a good fifteen or twenty miles from the barn.

It wasn't that warm, but with an old wool blanket he had in one of his saddlebags,the temperaturewas bearable. Closing his eyes, Logan began to feel the pull of sleep luring him into darkness.

_"Mr. Howlett, I'd like you to try writing your name." the nurse had asked nicely, seemingly unheard by the man she was speaking to._

_Logan stared straight ahead at the window behind the table he was sitting at in a wheelchair. His arms rested on the table, a piece of lined notebook paper lay in front of him as well as a pencil that had been sharpened to a fine point. _

_"Mr. Howlett?" the nurse called again, slightly impatient. _

_Clearing his throat, Logan shook his head and picked up the pencil without looking at the nurse. He awkwardly held it in his hand as if he'd never written anything before, bringing the pencil's point to the paper. Grunting in frustration, Logan tried to get his hand to work the way he wanted it to so he'd be able to write down his name. As he worked on the seemingly simple task for several minutes, the nurse looking over him keeping silent, Logan only managed to scribble a jagged line on the paper. He let out a growly sigh and dropped the pencil down on the table, letting his hands go limp. _

_"It's alright," the nurse said sympathetically with a small smile. "We can work on something else today."_

Logan's dream took a different course and he shifted slightly in his sleep, unable to find a comfortable position on the seats of the old truck.

_He was opening his eyes, slowly at first, a bright light above him causing him to blink several times before attempting to focus. His head hurt, his entire body ached, and he felt as though he could barely move. The sound of a loud, muffled voice soon assaulted his ears. _

_"Get the doctor, I think he's coming out of it!!"_

_Coming out of what? Logan tried to speak, to ask what was going on, but his throat was sore and his tongue felt like sandpaper. _

_Soon a figure was hovering over him, holding one of his eyes open and shining a light into it. He tried to pull away, put he could barely move. That light was making his headache worse than it already was. _

_"Pupils are both equal and reactive, he's looking good." the figure spoke with a low, gravelly old voice. _

_"What would you like me to do Doctor Wells?" it was the nurse again. She had a young, sweet, caring voice._

_Things were starting to come together once Logan could hear properly again and everything wasn't extra loud and muffled. He groaned, opening and closing his mouth and hoping someone would give him something to drink. _

_"Here's a glass of water hun," the young nurse spoke again, bringing a cup of water toward Logan and gently pushing the straw to his dry lips. _

_Logan slurped up as much water as he could take, the cool liquid immediately soothing his raw throat. "Whu-where's...'Ro?" he asked raspily as the nurse began checking his vitals._

_"'Ro?" the doctor questioned, looking to the nurse for an answer._

_"Um...I believe his fiance's name is Ororo." she supplied, Logan nodding to confirm her response. _

_"We'll give her a call for you son," the old doctor's low voice sounded as he patted Logan's hand and gave a crooked smile. _

Soon the dream took a different turn again, distorting the versions of his memory.

_Logan was laying in the hospital bed, everything around him was dark and it appeared to be sometime after midnight. There was suddenly a bright light from the door, out in the hall. He squinted his eyes to focus on the figure that had stepped into the doorway, the light shining brightly behind them. It was Ororo, she had come to see him. "'Ro?" he choked out, voice still pretty raw from disuse. _

_Ororo's long, silky white hair billowed out behind her and she bowed her head, looking sad. The long and flowing white dress she wore made her look just like an angel, like she had the day he fell from the barn roof and broke his leg. She locked gazes with Logan for a moment, then suddenly her form grew transparent and she began fading away._

_"'Ro!" Logan choked out again hoarsely, weakly raising an arm to reach out to her as she disappeared. He tried yelling her name, but no sound came out of his mouth and all he could do was stare after her._

**"ORORO, WAIT!!!" **Logan woke up screaming, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He began coughing from use of his dry throat and sat up, gasping for air. Chest heaving, Logan flung open the car door and staggered out of the truck, stumbling and dropping to his knees in the dirt. He clenched his eyes shut and grasped at his head with both hands, breathing heavily and trying to steady his nerves. He felt lost, as if he was waking up from his coma all over again and his world had been turned upside down. It was like he was losing Ororo again too.

Climbing to his feet heavily, Logan walked back to the truck and snatched his dufflebag from the back. He dragged it onto the seat and blindly dug around until his fingers clasped around a small cylinder shape. He pulled it up and raised it to the dim light of the moon, confirming that it was the right bottle. Twisting off the cap, Logan tipped the little orange container until two pills spilled into his palm. Popping the sleeping pills into his mouth, he swallowed, not having any water nearby to cleanse his dry throat and make them go down easier. Logan had a feeling he'd really need the pills to cure his insomnia tonight after his vivid dream.

- - - - -

Ororo tossed and turned in her sleep, thoughts of Logan plaguing her mind. She restlessly rolled to her right, her left arm dangling over the edge of the bed and her face stuffed into the pillow. Her guilt nagged at her, filtering in through her dreams and depriving her of true restfulness.

_"Do you need anything?" Ororo asked as she handed Logan a glass of water and adjusted the pillow under his leg cast. _

_He gave her a look and a crooked smile. "'Ro, fer the billionth time I'm fine. Now quit babying me an' go do somethin' for yerself." he instructed firmly._

_She smiled, then sighed and sunk into the chair beside the couch that Logan was laying on. "Peter returned your call, he'll be coming up tomorrow to start working on the roof."_

_Logan nodded with a soft grunt and rubbed the back of his head before laying back and closing his eyes. _

_Ororo knew that Logan would much rather be working on the roof himself, but with three fractured ribs and a bad break on his right leg, there was no way he was going up on that ladder anytime soon. Getting up, Ororo passed by the couch and bent down to kiss Logan's cheek. "Alright, I'm going down to the flower shop for an hour or so just to help out a bit. Will you be alright while I'm gone?"_

_"Mm-hm." Logan just nodded absently and changed the channel on the television. _

_"My mother will be stopping by in a little while to get dinner started. I told her just to let herself in. Oh, and she's bringing some homemade cornbread." Ororo rubbed his shoulder and smiled. _

_Logan grinned. "Ooh, I love yer mom's cornbread." he smirked, glancing back up at her._

_Ororo smiled again, then picked up her purse from the coffee table and headed out the old screen door, opening up a window before she left to let the warm spring breeze flow into the house. _

When the fond memory of being with Logan years ago had passed, Ororo's dream took a different turn, warping into a sad and all-too realistic nightmare.

_It was nearly dinner time and Ororo had just returned from the flower shop in town. She was looking forward to the dinner that her mother was preparing, and she could smell the fresh cornbread scent wafting out through the window screens. Stepping in through the door, Ororo was somewhat surprised when she didn't find Logan sitting or laying on the couch where she'd left him. She knew with his injuries he had trouble getting around and was supposed to be resting, so she had figured he would be there to have his dinner in the livingroom. "Logan? Mom?" she called when she wasn't greeted by any friendly, familiar faces at her arrival. _

_"In here!" it was her mother's voice calling from the kitchen._

_With a raised eyebrow, Ororo set down her purse and strode toward the kitchen. She found her mother by the stove, stirring a pot of chili, the still-warm cornbread sitting on the kitchen table. "Mom, where's Logan?" she asked with confusion, looking around. _

_"He's dying." Ororo's aging mother responded in an eerily calm tone, not looking away from the stove._

_Mouth gaping open, Ororo suddenly found that her heart was beating hard in her chest and she felt extreme panic welling up inside her. "Whu-what?" she gasped in a bare whisper._

_Suddenly a loud gunshot errupted in the silence and Logan staggered into the kitchen. His leg was free of the plaster cast, and he was wearing a grungy army uniform. He turned, the entire left side of his head and face covered in blood. Mouth hanging open, he suddenly collapsed and lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor, staining the tiles with oozing dark crimson blood._

_"Logan!!" Ororo screamed, dropping to her knees by his side. She looked to her mother for help, but the old woman was just stirring away at the pot of chili as if nothing was happening. She frantically reached for Logan's pulse, but found none. "No!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "You're not dying! You can't die! You didn't die!!" she pleaded, but he was already gone. _

**"LOGAN!!" **Ororo shrieked, hot tears streaming down both sides of her face, her expression contorted with anguish. She was sitting up in bed, her heart beating erratically and she couldn't be calmed. Flinging her feet over the side of the bed, Ororo got to her feet and padded softly toward the bathroom. She turned on the cold water and splashed some on her face, still breathing heavily. She realized she was still sobbing, but she couldn't stop herself. The dream was so real, Ororo suddenly felt like she had to find Logan or else she wouldn't believe he was still alive.

Thinking back on her dream as she dressed, without even caring that it was quarter to four in the morning, Ororo couldn't help but dwell on the image of Logan dying. She wondered if it was somehow symbolic, because when she first got the call that Logan was dead, then was later told he was in a coma, Ororo thought that maybe it would be easier to believe that he was dead so she could move on without hurting so much. She knew now, that it was a foolish thing, and that she should have visited him when he was hospitalized, but it was all too much. Shaking her head, Ororo took in a deep breath before leaving her room and searching for the keys to her Jeep.

- - - - -

Nothing close to sleep came to Logan even after he had taken the sleeping pills. He laid awake, staring at the inside roof of the truck. He could feel his droopy eyes, but everytime he closed them it was like it made him more awake. Another thing Logan noticed was that his headaches seemed much more frequent since he'd returned to Arkansas, and wondered if it somehow had to do with stress, or maybe anxiety? Sighing loudly, he finally gave up on pursuing sleep and decided to keep himself busy so maybe he could exhaust himself and sleep would find him.

Logan sat up and climbed out of the truck, slamming the loud creaky door behind him and grabbing his dufflebag. He thought about working on the old Chevy to keep occupied, but realized he had no lighting. With that idea scratched, he pulled his motorcycle keys from his jeans pocket, having gone to sleep in his clothes, and mounted the bike. After sitting there for a moment and staring up at the velvety sky, he kicked the Harley into gear and rode off down the dirt road.

- - - - -

Driving toward the old barn, Ororo somehow thought that by going there she would find Logan again, though this time she was wrong. All she found as she pulled up just in front of the Chevy was an empty area, no Logan in sight. Sighing sadly and not knowing where else he could possibly be, Ororo got back in her Jeep and drove toward town.

While speeding along the close-to-deserted roads, Ororo kept glancing at the clock set into the dashboard of the old Jeep. It read: 4:28 a.m., and she doubted there would be any sleep for her before morning. Her thoughts drifted to a memory of a warm spring night where both she and Logan were suffering from insomnia.

_"You can't sleep either huh?" Ororo leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen where Logan was sitting at the table with a glass of water, his plaster-casted right leg propped up on a chair. She had gone downstairs after waking up restlessly and discovering that he wasn't in the room._

_He cleared his throat and grinned at her, shaking his head. "Nope." Slowly slipping his leg off the chair, he reached down for the pair of crutches on the floor and hopped to a standing position, putting little weight on his right leg. "Let's go fer a drive."_

_Ororo raised an eyebrow, then shrugged her shoulders and grabbed a light coat to put on over her nightgown. "As long as I'm driving." she teased._

_Logan rolled his eyes and half-smiled. "Oh, good one." he said with mild, joking sarcasm as he slipped his left foot into a boot. _

_Grabbing the keys to her Jeep, Ororo walked out the door and held it open as Logan came hobbling along behind her. _

_They drove through the county, past many empty fields and ones littered with hundreds of dairy cows. There were no streetlights, but telephone poles lined the roads, traveling to the few farmhouses that led up to the small town which was brightly lit. _

_"I could go fer a beer, pull on up ta Shannigan's place." Logan said suddenly, glancing over at Ororo from the passenger seat. _

_With a raised eyebrow, Ororo humored him and pulled up to the bar, shifting the Jeep into park. "And how do you propose we get that beer? We're hardly dressed to go out in puplic." she smiled light-heartedly._

_"I'll go in an' get it." He smirked, then popped open the glove compartment of Ororo's Jeep where he knew she always kept an extra wallet. He pulled out enough bills for two beers, then started to get out of the Jeep. _

_Ororo stifled a laugh and looked him over as he grabbed one of his crutches and steadied himself. "In your boxers?"_

_"Hmph." Logan grunted, then raised an eyebrow and smiled slyly again. "Lemme borrow yer coat." he gestured toward her with one hand._

_Shaking her head and laughing, Ororo complied and pulled off her long trenchcoat and handed it to him. "You're crazy!" she laughed._

_"Maybe I am." Logan smirked as he struggled to balance himself and put on the coat. It was tight on his broad shoulders, and the sleaves were a little too short, but it was long enough to go past his knees so that no one would know he was only wearing boxer shorts. Fumbling with the buttons, he smiled gratefully as Ororo crawled over to the passenger seat and helped him fasten the coat. When he was all buttoned up Logan hopped to turn around and began hobbling toward the bar entrance. _

_Ororo waited patiently, trying to imagine the face of the bartender as Logan hobbled in there looking rediculous in her coat. She laughed to herself, then glanced to her side as the passenger door suddenly opened and Logan stood there, reaching in the Jeep and handing her the beers as he took of the coat. "How'd it go?" she asked, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing._

_"Fine," he smirked. "Everyone was too drunk ta notice how stupid I looked." Logan sat down on the seat, pulling his crutch in and shutting the door._

_"And the bartender?" she asked with a raised eyebrow._

_Logan let out a snort and smiled crookedly. "I think he was hammered too."_

_Ororo laughed, shaking her head as she started up the Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot. _

"The bar!" Ororo exclaimed loudly to herself with a brief smile at the memory as she began driving up to town. She hoped that Logan would be there, it used to be a place he went to often during the occasional bouts of insomnia. Mentally crossing her fingers, Ororo pulled into Shannigan's dusty parking lot. The place was one of the few businesses in town that hadn't run off after the worst of the tornadoes, and for that she was thankful. She sighed with relief when she saw Logan's motorcycle and braced herself to head into the bar.

- - - - -

It was just about time for the old place to close down, and Logan was only on his second beer. The slightly smokey atmosphere proved that there were not only very few patrons in the bar that night, but the bartender himself had smoked atleast five cigars in the short time Logan had been there, and was working on his second case of beer. The big old Irish guy had a thick red beard, a bald head covered by a black leather bandana, and several Celtic tattoos on his thick, bare arms. Logan _knew _the guy could hold his liquor, and it must've been a slow night. It was probably always slow nights around this place ever since the town went to hell.

Finishing off his second bottle, Logan tossed a few dollars on the bar and got up. As the bartender glanced over at him with a nod, the big guy muttered a "'Night fella," and started cleaning off glasses. As he stepped out the door, head bowed, he discovered a forest green colored Jeep next to his Harley and a familiar woman coming toward him.

"Logan," Ororo said quietly as she warily approached the scruffy man.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, then raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is it 'Ro?" he asked gruffly.

Bracing herself for rejection, Ororo took another step toward him. "I had to see you."

- - - - -


	4. Chapter 4: If It Wasn't For You

**Note: **Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry to announce that this is the final chapter, because many of you seem to have wanted it ta go for much longer. I hope you still enjoy readin' this though. x-0; It was hard for me to find a way to end it, but I hafta say that I did leave alotta stuff open. Maybe I'll work on a continuance for this after I get rid o' some plot bunnies. Hehe.

**The Barn**

**Chapter 4: If It Wasn't For You**

Logan sat in the bed of the Chevy, his back against the outside cab, left leg bent up and his right laying straight out in front of him. He fiddled with an unlit cigar in his right hand between his fingers as Ororo watched him, sitting on the flat bed at the end of the truck. He sighed, putting a hand to his head and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Logan didn't know how to express his feelings toward Ororo, or even if he _should _express those feelings. She came after _him_. That had to mean something, right? The quiet was becoming overwhelming, so Logan decided to break it gruffly. "You hadta see me, but ya ain't sayin' anythin'." he muttered as they continued to sit in silence.

Ororo looked up and smiled tightly. "I know," she answered quietly. "I thought maybe, if we came to sit out here it would be easier."

His brows furrowed as he pulled a silver Zippo from his left pocket and finally lit his cigar. Taking a few puffs and letting the smoke waft out through his nostrils, Logan cast his deep hazel eyes upon Ororo.

"I've missed you." her voice came out slightly hesitant, as if she was truly worried what he would say. Fidgeting, Ororo pulled the long jacket she wore tighter around herself. There was a bit of a chill in the air and their breaths were starting to come out as small puffs of condensation like the smoke from Logan's cigar.

Logan snorted bitterly. "Yeh, ya missed me so much ya couldn't even visit me in the hospital." The words came out before he could stop himself. _That was harsh, you jackass, _he thought to himself, immediately regretting what he'd said. It was what he was feeling at the time, and he just let it out. The words probably came a little from the alcohol too.

"I deserved that." Ororo admitted quietly with a sadened frown. She forced herself not to start crying again. He was right.

Sighing, Logan looked over at her again, his features softening. "Look 'Ro, I didn't mean it. I know it was hard enough-"

"No," she shook her head slowly, cutting him off. "I shouldn't have been so selfish. I won't deny that it was difficult thinking of you just...just lying in that military hospital and possibly..._dying_." Ororo paused to compose herself and force back tears again. Her voice was strained as she continued. "But I can't even imagine how hard it was for you to wake up after all those years....with nobody to see you through _your _suffering."

Logan felt his heart wrenching in his chest at her words. He didn't want to remember how it was, waking up without Ororo being there, then later receiving just a lousy letter explaining her absense. The thought reminded him of his nightmare where she had visited him, but then disappeared before he could get to her. "'Ro, I can't blame you," he rasped once he'd found his voice again. He gazed into her watery eyes and managed a pathetic attempt at a smile. "If I hadn't been thinkin' 'bout you...I don't think I ever woulda came outta that coma."

Ororo smiled shakily, her lower lip quivering as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Can I ask ya sometin'?" Logan asked suddenly with a raised eyebrow as he rose his chin to look at her. Without waiting for a response he questioned, "Why Summers?"

There was a minute with nothing but empty air between them. Then Ororo met his steady gaze. "Truth?" she asked with a sudden bashful laugh, getting a nod from Logan to continue. Her voice softened. "He was there." she admitted softly with a partial shrug. "Scott was a nice guy. I think he knew that my heart would never fully be his...but for awhile he needed someone to care for too. He wasn't you by far...but he was there, and I -" Ororo's voice cracked and more tears trailed freely down her soft cheeks. "I didn't want to be alone."

Feeling bad for her emotional outburst, Logan let out a sympathetic sigh and scooted down towards the end of the truck bed where she was sitting. He testily put an arm over her shoulder and she slumped into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle.

"I'm sorry Logan," she cried heartfully. "I'm so, so sorry!"

Logan was suddenly lost in a daze at her words and he found himself staring across the barren landscape as the cold air encircled them.

_"Oh Logan, I'm so sorry!" Ororo cried regretfully as she climbed up from the floor after his crutch got caught behind her foot and they both tumbled to the floor. _

_He grimaced painfully, then tried to hide it with a laugh from their conjoined clumsiness. "It's a'right 'Ro, jus' help me up."_

_She took hold of his hand firmly while grabbing the lone crutch off the floor and handing it to him. Her cheeks were flushed violet but she looked him over, concerned that she had hurt him in the fall. "Logan, are you sure you're alright? I'm so, so sorry."_

_"Yeh, I'm okay, really," he assured Ororo after she helped him up, then absently rubbed at his ribs a moment before smiling crookedly and hobbling over to take a seat on the couch. Then he started laughing, shaking his head. "We're a graceful pair aren't we?" he said with a grin._

_Ororo laughed along with him, shaking her head and planting a kiss on his forehead. _

Clearing his throat, Logan shook his head and displaced the memory from his mind. He slowly unwrapped Ororo's arms from his middle and pulled away, sliding off the truck bed and standing up. As she looked at him with those teary eyes, his heart just broke. He was still desperately in love with her, but he wasn't sure fixing things between them would be that easy. They were both pretty emotionally unstable after what they'd been through, and neither really knew what to do with their lives or where they were going. "I gotta go..." Logan began unsteadily, running a hand through his hair. He jerked a thumb at his motorcycle and edged toward it, wavering a smile that ended up looking more like a grimace. "Fer the night I mean. Gonna head inta town, get a room at the motel or somethin'."

Ororo sniffled and nodded understandingly, wiping away the tears that streaked her face. She wasn't going to ask Logan if he wanted to stay at her mother's place another night, she already knew he'd refuse. She started to climb out of the truck bed when she heard his gruff voice again.

"I'll see ya t'morrow." he said lowly, jerking his chin toward the old Chevy. "I'll be here workin'."

Smiling a little as she turned away slightly so he couldn't see, Ororo closed her eyes, happy in knowing that he'd be returning. He even said he'd see her again, that was a good sign. "Goodnight." she called out quietly before his Harley roared to life, and she received a brief nod in return.

- - - - -

Running a hand roughly over his face, Logan climbed out of the bed and scrunched up his toes as his bare feet touched the grungy grey carpet of the motel room. It was just about 7:30 a.m., and after the late night he had, Logan had only gotten about two hours of sleep. He yawned tiredly and rubbed at the side of his head. There was a dull throbbing of a headache, and he decided that maybe he'd take a Tylenol or two instead of just waiting for the pain to go away on it's own. He wasn't so sure this headache was from the bullet in his head, but more likely from lack of sleep. Reaching his arms toward the water-stained ceiling, Logan's shoulders and elbows cracked and popped before he dropped his arms back against his sides. He lumbered toward the bathroom, hoping that a shower would leave him feeling a little more refreshed before he went back to the old barn to work on his truck.

- - - - -

By the time Ororo got the courage to stop by the barn, it was three o' clock in the afternoon. She pulled her Jeep down the winding dirt road, dust clouds forming around her vehicle as she came to a stop and killed the engine. She wandered toward the truck with a raised eyebrow, looking it over. There were new tires, and they weren't flat either. Ororo found Logan sitting in the truck bed with the neck of a beer bottle dangling loosely between his thumb and forefinger. "Hi," she said quietly, figuring that he had to have known she was there.

Shifting position, Logan absently pushed the three empty beer bottles behind the tool box that sat in the truck bed with him. He blinked a few times, feeling slightly buzzed with his vision a little blurry for a moment. "Hey," he scooted toward the end of the truck bed and let his legs hang over.

Ororo leaned up against the old Chevy, resting an arm on a side of the truck bed. She briefly licked her dry lips and sighed. "Been thinking?" she asked gently.

Logan took a swig from the beer bottle before setting it down. "Yeh." he raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "You?"

Bowing her head and smiling faintly, Ororo nodded. "Yes," she admitted, then looked back up again to find Logan still staring intently at her. "What have you been thinking about?"

"Hn," he half-smiled thoughtfully, then said, "Us." Pausing, Logan slid off the truck bed and leaned alongside it as Ororo was. "How 'bout you?" his voice lowered.

She stifled the ironic laugh that wanted to escape her lips. "Me too." Ororo suddenly pulled away from the truck and began swaying back and forth on her heels. Changing the subject, she asked, "Would you like to come up for dinner? Fried chicken, my mother's recipe."

Logan couldn't hide his smirk and gently reached for her smooth hand. "How 'bout we start over. A new beginning fer us?" he suggested quietly, knowing he was being rather bold and just hoping not to see rejection in Ororo's blue eyes.

Instead, tear drops trickled suddenly down her cheeks and she smiled. "I'd like that."

- - - - - The End - - - - -

**Note: **That's it. Please review!!! I know the ending came kind of abruptly and I had other plans for the story but didn't quite know how ta get there. Sorry. I hope you enjoyed anyway! x-0; Please review!


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